Historical Romance Books 1 – 4. Marguerite Kaye

and subsequent overreaction, until it was too late.

      The clouds were beginning to clear. A single star appeared, and then another, and another, and the silver scimitar-like half-moon lit the desert, casting a shadow over the Sabr marker. It was too late for recriminations. Too late for regrets. Too late to wish it all undone. Too late for anything, save atonement.

      Getting to his feet, he reverently kissed the stone of the Sabr post. The time had come to seize the day, be bold and act. Stephanie had shown him the way. Rafiq leaned against the marker, closing his eyes. Tonight had once again been like no other he could remember. It made him wonder how it would be when finally their bodies were truly united.

      He hadn’t liked being at odds with her, though it had taken him a good many hours to accept that it was this, and not Jasim’s behaviour which troubled him. Stephanie’s opinions had come to matter a good deal to him. She had forced him to accept he was human, capable of misjudgements. She was not his conscience, but she was rapidly becoming his touchstone. Who would fulfil that function when she was gone?

      He did not need to think about that yet, because Stephanie would be here for a good few months more. Calling to his horse, Rafiq rode out into the dark desert night.

      * * *

      Stephanie shifted uncomfortably on the high saddle of her camel. The promise of a visit to a Bedouin horse fair had been too exciting to resist, though she had resisted, until Fadil had promised he would summon her immediately if any new case of infection arose. It was now more than a week since her precautions had been fully implemented, almost three weeks since the last case, so there were grounds for optimism. There was also the fact that since the hamam ten days ago, she had not had the opportunity to be alone with Rafiq.

      Not that they were alone now. For the last hour, the desert trail they had been following had been crowded with camels, horses, mules and even men trudging along on foot. The surface consisted of hard-packed mud studded with jagged boulders and pockets of soft, sinking sand, which forced her camel to perform an occasional disconcerting ungainly curtsy, casting Stephanie forward in the saddle, a motion which the camel took great exception to, throwing his head back and expelling a cloud of his foul breath. She had never been so glad of the keffiyeh protecting her face.

      ‘Is it much further?’ she asked, manoeuvring her grumpy ship of the desert closer to Rafiq’s own mount.

      He shook his head. ‘I promise you, it is worth it.’

      She could tell by the way his eyes crinkled that he was laughing at her. ‘It had better be.’

      A few moments later, they crested a hill, and she forgot all her aches and pains at the sight which greeted her in the valley below. There were hundreds of tents, rows and rows of them, every one seemingly identical, black and conical in shape. Smoke from the many cooking pots cast a pall over the encampment. The noise of children’s laughter echoed, mingling with the brays of mules and camels, the whinnies of horses. There were horses everywhere, some tethered by the tents, but the majority on long ropes attached to huge poles in the clearing in front of the tented village.

      ‘Those are the horses to be sold at the fair,’ Rafiq told her, edging them both to one side, away from the crowd.

      ‘An auction?’

      ‘It’s a little more complicated than that. Fortunately, I will have time to explain. The Bedouin have very strict rules of etiquette. If I were acting as host today, I would be required to attend a number of audiences, which must be held in strict order of importance, with the various Sheikhs—bearing gifts, naturally. But we are outside Bharym’s boundaries here, we crossed into the kingdom of Nessarah an hour ago, and my time is my own.’

      ‘I had no idea that there would be so many tents.’

      ‘There will be several tribes here today. The horse fair happens only twice a year in this part of Arabia, rarely in the same location. We are fortunate that it is so close to home this year.’

      ‘Are we likely to meet...?’ Stephanie hesitated. She did not want to spoil the mood, but it was an obvious question, wasn’t it? ‘Princess Elmira’s family...will they be here?’

      ‘I believe not.’

      Did that mean he had checked? Because he wanted to meet them, or because he wanted to avoid them? His tone was carefully neutral. His expression was the one she thought of as princely, his lids languidly heavy, not a trace of emotion to be detected, not because it was lacking, but because Rafiq was being careful to disguise it.

      ‘What about the tribe who raised you as a boy?’

      ‘They travelled very far north from here some years ago, though I have heard word of them through the other tribes many times over the years. They did not raise me, Stephanie. I lived with them for periods of time in order to learn the ways of the desert.’

      ‘Oh, I thought when you said—I thought it was all of the time.’

      ‘You misunderstood. It was no different from the practice of the English aristocracy, to hand the care of their children to a governess or tutor who is expert in certain subjects, or to send their sons to school.’

      ‘If I had a child, I would not wish to hand him into anyone else’s care. Not that the occasion will ever arise.’

      ‘You have no desire for children?’

      She could tell him it was none of his business, but his determination to disguise his own emotions riled her. She would not pretend. ‘I have always wanted children, lots of them, but now that is not to be. I wish I had had brothers and sisters. Though there were always lots of other children in the camp to play with, it wasn’t the same.’

      ‘I am sorry, I did not mean to upset you. I should not have asked.’

      ‘Rafiq, of course I find the subject upsetting, but I am not like you. I don’t want you to change the subject.’

      ‘Then what do you want?’

      ‘I want to know if you would like children. I want to know if you would have liked to have sisters and brothers.’ She was in danger of spoiling the day, and she had looked forward to it so much, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘I’m tired of all the taboos you place on our conversation, Rafiq.’

      ‘What, by all the stars, are you talking about? I thought we had a very clear understanding between us.’

      He was right. As far as he was concerned, he was sticking to the rules. It was unfair of her to expect him to comply when she tried to bend them a little. And it was wrong of her to try, because it was those very rules which protected them both. ‘We do,’ Stephanie said dejectedly. ‘I just wish occasionally you would trust me enough to let me glimpse behind the impenetrable cloak you use to shield your emotions. I would like to understand and, I suppose, be understood. But I am being illogical. Please let us forget it, and enjoy the day.’

      ‘You are contrary, often contradictory but never illogical.’

      She was forced to laugh. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Only you would take such a remark as a compliment. You are quite unique, Stephanie, and that is what makes you so special.’

      ‘Oh.’ The tears rose too suddenly for her to catch the first one as it trickled down her cheek.

      ‘Are you upset because I did not mention your skills as a veterinarian?’

      His smile made her feel like the sun had come out, which was preposterous, because the sun was ever present here in Arabia. ‘I’m crying because that is the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.’

      ‘I wish very much that I could kiss those tears away.’

      ‘I very much wish that you could, Rafiq, but we are in the full gaze of half of Arabia.’

      ‘Then later tonight,’ he said.

      ‘It will be more like morning, by the time we ride back after the fair.’

      ‘The